


A Little Comfort

by ShadowMeld



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Angst, Dom/sub, F/M, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Oral Sex, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-15
Updated: 2012-09-15
Packaged: 2017-11-14 06:45:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/512441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowMeld/pseuds/ShadowMeld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ronthil has been begging for someone to use him, to take care of him all this time.  Fortunately for him, the Dragonborn knows the value of such a sweetly submissive creature.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Response to a Skyrimkink prompt.

“I just seek to be useful.”

“Do you?”

The Bosmer-turned fidgeted, his glowing gaze flickering nervously away. “Um, yes Ma’am,” came the quiet, placating voice. Where most vampires felt…hungry; for power, wealth, knowledge, Ronthil felt distinctly different. He felt needy…and sad. He wore that desperation like ill-fitting armor, looking nervous and uncomfortable. She wasn’t surprised, it marked him as a victim, and in this nest of vipers it was a very dangerous position indeed. 

He wanted the attention and protection of someone stronger, but no one in Castle Volkihar would give him the time of day. Base predators with no thought towards anything but their next meal. All too self-involved or too paranoid to tolerate the obvious desperation on the part of the delicate Bosmer male. 

Personally, she found that shy gaze aroused something in her. Ever since her defeat of Harkon he had been increasingly nervous, as always ingratiating as well. It tasted good to her, made her mouth wet to hear his supple supplications and quiet submission. She’d been watching him for a while now, as she traded with him and listened to him quietly apologize for his stock’s inadequacies. She knew that he allowed himself to be pressed into sleeping in a small bedroll behind a bookcase, not even allowed to take his rest with his other kin. 

Tonight though, she was done letting the anticipation build. She would put him out of his misery, and finally sate her desires. 

“Ronthil,” the Dragonborn snapped, voice a little firmer than she’d intended. It made the Bosmer vampire jump, his glowing eyes snapping to her suddenly in alarm, before he visibly forced himself to calm down again. 

“Y-yes, my Lady…is something not to your satisfaction?”

“I want to you report to my chambers this evening. You will not feed beforehand. Understood?”

The Bosmer looked shocked, but shortly agreed, his gaze averting quickly from hers in clear submission. Such a sweet creature… she sighed, leaving him to his work while she went to attend to other matters of the castle. Honestly, if Vingalmo and Orthjolf did not stop fighting she was going to feed them both to the hounds.   
______

Midnight found the Dragonborn seated in Harkon’s old study facing the fire with a potion of blood warm in her glass. She’d spruced the place up a bit since she’d risen to power. The torture rack had been removed since it was terribly soiled and unhygienic at the least. She was pragmatic enough to understand the necessity of torture, but it was the epitome of low class to have it done in one’s chambers. 

The place was warmer now, and a bit brighter, but she’d kept the cage. It was a nice old thing, and it still had its uses. 

A quiet knock sounded on the door, and her attention flickered to it. So Ronthil had arrived. 

“Come in.”

There was a pause before he finally pushed open the door. She tried not to smile at the tentative way the Bosmer was walking into her rooms. Ronthil was wringing those fine hands, his anxious gaze tracking around the room, taking in everything with an obvious fear. She bet he saw quite a lot more than most would give him credit for with those lovely uptilted eyes. 

The Bosmer vampire probably thought he was in trouble, likely he was not called to her predecessor for much else than chastisement. His eyes seemed to lock on the place the rack used to be, confirming her earlier assumptions. Anyone could see that he was starved for praise, and willing to do almost anything to please. It was that thought which made the Dragonborn shiver just a bit as she looked at him. In a harsh place like Skyrim it was rare to run into someone who was not tempered with its pervasive cold. Ronthil was eager to please without the oily film of self-interest. This pretty thing just wanted to survive, just wanted protection, comfort, he wanted to follow and just be safe. 

Perhaps it was her affiliations with the Brotherhood, but life had sharpened her tastes and that nubile offering made her more ravenous than any naked throat. 

“You-you requested me?” Ronthil blurted, then seemed to shrink as he realized it called greater attention to him. It appeared the silence was exacerbating his fears. 

The sight made her warm to him, that delicate Bosmer that seemed to be trying so hard to make himself smaller where he stood. “Are you happy with your undeath, Ronthil?”

“Why…why yes, Ma’am. I-I would never complain. I only wish to be useful.”

“Really? I dare say if I were treated as you were I would complain quite profusely. Made to sleep apart from the others, last pick of the cattle, and whipping boy for all around you… Yes, I would be very dissatisfied.”

He may not have fed, but that was not the only reason Ronthil was looking pale under her gaze. “With all due respect, I know that I do not have the strength you do, my Lady. I simply wish to have a place, I understand that I must… must earn my keep, I only hope that those above me will deign to see my useful enough to keep around.”

“Yes… you’re not strong, but you are good, capable, obedient. I like that. Do you wish to please me, Ronthil?”

“Of course, my Lady. I live to serve.” 

Ah, she loved that. Such a good boy. It was a shame that the others were callously taking advantage of that gentle submission. She’d had a theory for a while now that the rest of the court was abusing his nature. At least Vingalmo was using him sexually, and she knew the Altmer was unkind in his pleasures. In fact when she knew he’d returned from him the Bosmer was often looking more tense and less satisfied than ever. 

The fools knew nothing of what to do with a sweet male like this, and had truly left dear Ronthil ripe for her attention. “Do you like me? And remember honesty is always rewarded, but lies will be met with discipline.”

Even the word discipline seemed to make Ronthil more uneasy. “I…I respect you, my Lady. You-you treat me b-better than most.”

Not much, but it was a start. “Do you desire me?”

Now that gave the Bosmer a start. “W-what?” The male sputtered, her glowing eyes suddenly quite firmly averted. “I would never…I would be so disrespectful. I know my place, my Lady…”

“It doesn’t upset me to be desired, Ronthil. And I said I want you to be honest.”

“My Lady, you are very… powerful. Anyone I am sure would─”

“I didn’t ask what ‘anyone’ would want, Ronthil. I asked what you want.”


	2. Chapter 2

The Bosmer was blocked into a corner and he looked about ready to cry. “I don’t see why my opinion matters. I… I do f-find you attractive, but I would never offend… I have never said anything that would disparage…”

“No one has said anything, Ronthil. You’re been very good, I know. In fact, your fine work and diligence has caught my eye. I like you quite a bit, my dear Bosmer, and I want to know if you would like to be under my protection.”

“Protection?” Ronthil’s quiet voice tested the word, soft and gentle like something fragile but infinitely valuable. It sounded like something he had hoped for but never dared to think he would receive. 

“Yes. I want you to be mine. You can of course continue to work under Sadri if you like, but in essence you would answer only to me. Neither Vingalmo, Orthjolf or any other court politics would concern you except my own. Any issues you have with the others would be addressed to me, and I will handle them, as will complaints against yourself be brought to me. You will be my vassal, and no one else’s. Do you like the sound of that?”  
______

Ronthil could not believe what he was hearing. It just sounded too good to be true. When she’d first called him he’d been terrified that she had caught him looking. For a while his gaze had wandered over the woman who had returned their lord’s daughter and then promptly usurped him. How could one not be awed by her strength, her beauty… it had made him look, but he most certainly knew better than to get caught. 

He still shuddered to think of how irate Fura Bloodmouth had been when she’d sensed his gaze lingering on her, she’d had nothing but disgust that a weakling like him would so besmirch her with his eyes. He hadn’t meant any harm, hadn’t planned to do anything, but the human-turn had nearly torn him apart in her fury. Now he knew better than to cast his gaze onto others unless they asked for it. So needless to say it was shocking to the Bosmer to have this woman, more powerful than any he’d ever known express some interest in him. 

It was difficult to believe, made even worse because he wanted to believe it so much. He’d had similar offers before. Vingalmo had been nice in the beginning as well. The Altmer had talked about how his people and the Bosmer were on good terms, said he was the only one he worth his time. Ronthil had been so happy to have a place, he’d accepted the altmer’s advances readily. It had been alright at first, until Vingalmo revealed how cruel his tastes really were, and then he’d been even more vicious than before while still demanding his… services. 

And now staring at The Lady… the Dragonborn, he didn’t know what to say but, “yes.”

The woman smiled and Ronthil looked tentatively at her, his own smile not sure of its welcome. He fidgeted where he stood there, but then the lady’s hand was out, beckoning him closer. He was scared, but he still wanted to believe in this chance. The Bosmer was tired, and lonely, and he didn’t want to live like this forever. So with a slow, fortifying breath Ronthil walked to the tall woman, his heart beating hard.   
______

Gods, the Bosmer was cute. Watching him come to her so slowly, so frightened made her hunger grow, and it was a fight not scare him with the force of her desire. He was fragile, broken from harsh use, but she’d bet he warmed quite well with gentle handling. 

Ronthil stopped right in front of her, shifting nervously under her gaze. She was gentle when she pulled him closer, drawing the slight Bosmer into her lap. He looked surprised, even if he allowed her to settle him there. She kept smiling at him as her hands lazily began to explore the wood elf’s supple body. The Dragonborn could feel the strong, lithe thighs straddling her tremble with tension but she was patient. 

The robes he wore were loose and soft beneath her hands, she could feel the magic of their enchantments warm beneath her fingers. It felt different than the mer’s own magic shuddering within his frightened form. She was studying his face from where it was so much closer to her, taking in those fine elven features she found so pleasing. 

She sensed his scrutiny as well, knew that Ronthil’s yearning gaze was running searchingly over her. When her hands worked their way up she found herself carding them through the Bosmer’s hair, finding it remarkably soft. The way many mer tended to keep it swept back she’d assumed that it was coarser, but it seemed that there was just some product keeping it that way. “Your hair’s so fine… what’s in it that makes it stick up that way?”

The Bosmer seemed to start at the sound of her voice at first, but actually relaxed a little after she’d broken the silence. “It’s a derivative potion, from Valenwood. It… uses tree sap,” he whispered the last quietly as those watchful eyes finally drifted closed under her stroking. 

“Interesting.” She could feel him relaxing into her, and she smiled at that. She’d known the lovely creature would do well under a bit of positive attention. He was supple in her arms, and as she stroked the long line of back and touched his soft nutmeg hair the Bosmer melted. The Dragonborn made a pleased sound deep in her throat when she felt him rub his cheek against her shoulder. He was feeling better now, she could tell that. Such a shame those others had so squandered his eager nature. 

“Feeling better?”

“Yes, my Lady,” he murmured, even though she still felt some tension in his form. 

“You said you wish to please me. Is that still true?”

“Of course, my Lady.”

“Then show me, dear Ronthil.”


	3. Chapter 3

She felt the Bosmer pause, breathing deep before pressing close for a long moment and finally pulling away. Patience was a virtue with someone who had been hurt as this one had. So she waited, keeping that gently encouraging touch on him as Ronthil moved down her body. Her heart skipped as she looked down into Bosmer’s glowing gaze burning up from between her thighs. 

There was a nervous wetting of lips, and the lovely creature brushed his sharp cheek against the cool hide of her breeches. 

“I haven’t…a woman hasn’t…” Ronthil began, obviously growing flustered with his own awkwardness. If the Bosmer hadn’t looked so desperate, so hungry, she may have worried he didn’t swing her way. But no, it was impossible not to see the marrow deep ache that seethed behind those eyes, lurking in the halting reverence of his voice. “It’s just…been a while. I-I apologize if my service is not to your liking…”

______

Divines, it had been so long since he’d touched a woman… intimately. His sire had been a male, and unfortunately undeath had done nothing to change his inherent… weakness. The court women of Volkihar had no interest in one such as him, not when so many were looking for advancement, status. Ronthil was barely above a thrall. 

But now he was here, and even if he’d doubted the Lady’s interest, he could not deny the scent of her desire in the air. She wanted him, at least a little, and it gave him enough of a boost to press his lips against her leather clad thigh. He would be good, so good, and gods willing the Lady would want to keep him. Care for him. 

The leather’s flavor was thick and earthy against his lips, tingling with magic, but more exciting still was the heat of flesh beneath. He groaned softly against the hide, shuddering as gentle nails raked across his scalp. Ronthil had never really realized how much he’d missed such simple touches. Minute, silly kindnesses that made his hands shake with a need he couldn’t quantify. 

He reveled in her heat, feeling the curves of her thighs, brushing his lips against the shape of them encased in leather and feeling his mouth grow wet. She was so much more fragrant here, even underneath the layers he could feel her radiance. His mind may have forgotten, but his body remembered quite eagerly the tastes of a woman. 

She was shifting beneath his hands, and even out of practice he recognized that restless arousal. The Bosmer loved the feel of her against him, pressing his lips over the mound that was the center of the heat he so wanted to reach. He wanted to please her, ached for it and audibly whimpered when her hand tightened in his hair and she tilted his nuzzling face up from her warm apex. 

Seeing her powerful gaze burning down at him made the poor Bosmer yearn even more. “Go on,” she growled, voice roughened with a terrible hunger. He loved the sound, nodding quick and desperate before his agile hands got to taking off the lady’s breeches. Ronthil cursed his every fumble as he worked at them, flinching at first as he anticipated his lady’s anger with his sorry ineptitude. 

The lady though was so patient… so gentle with the ill-used Bosmer as he tentatively removed the barrier. Now all that was between him and the heat that so called to him was a thin layer of silky underthings. He groaned to see the fine fabric soaked through, and quickly leaned in to stroke his tongue over the moist cloth. 

_______

Ronthil may have been worried about his abilities with women after his apparent drought, but the Dragonborn was seeing no faults with his technique. It was quite a sight to see another person looking up at you with such abject desperation, those lovely eyes pleading to only get a taste of what you and only you can offer. 

His lips were rubbing over the moist fabric clinging so closely to her sex; kissing, laving over her soft folds. And how his hands trembled… stroking her thighs, his body tight with the tension of desire that lay heavy and frustrated between his legs. But such a good boy, not to do anything about it. His whole focus was instead on pleasing her, and just the sight of it was satisfying. That agile mouth was so sweetly exploring her, running over her shape, sucking at the saturated fabric, and she actually started when he nudged her thighs more open and suckled at her hood. 

Oblivion, the elf was sweet and eager. He glanced up just once more before some of his searching fingers finally pulled the fragile fabric of her smalls aside. His moan was audible before he leaned in again and ran that nimble tongue over her sensitive flesh. Ronthil didn’t need any prompting to lick and suck her sore, dripping folds. The Dragonborn ran her hands through his soft hair, gripping tight when the Bosmer pulled her fleshy hood back with a finger and began licking her swollen clit. 

Her voice came out in a growled sob as the eager little mer began to work that tender pearl under his lips and tongue. He pleasured like he needed it, like he craved feeling her come beneath him. For a brief moment his mouth went away as he worked to remove the rest of her smalls, but still his thumb was rolling that hard, aching clit under its hood. It was enough to make her toes curl, and she could only purr and stroke his soft mane in approval. 

With him licking, sucking, feasting on her it did not take long for the Lady to reach her peak. When she came she moaned, clutching him tight just before she released the Bosmer. She caught her breath slowly, her gaze falling to the squirming wood elf between her legs, noticing quite pointedly his unsteady breaths and visibly tented robes. 

Cuter still was the way the Bosmer started and blushed when he noticed her looking, the embarrassed mer making quite a show of closing his legs and trying to push his aching arousal down. It was obvious Ronthil was unsure of the welcome of his needs. Likely he was used to pleasuring others and expecting no such pleasure in return. 

Oh she liked the idea of her Bosmer aching, sweet and trembling before her in arousal, but she did not intend to be cruel to the sweet mer this time. Not when he was so wonderfully obedient. 

“Are you aching, my lovely vassal?” the Dragonborn purred, careful fingers rubbing over the sensitive tip of one elven ear. It was not something the Bosmer was expecting, and it was clear the lithely built male elf was helplessly overwhelmed by the sensation. 

Tears were gathering in Ronthil’s pretty eyes, and the mer so exquisitely whimpered as he nodded his desperate assent. “Yes, my Lady. P-please… I… Divines… I’ll be so good, I promise…” that soft voice choked, his lithe body twisting in terrible frustration. 

My those ears had to be sensitive, to have the pretty mer weeping simply at a touch. Poor dear. “Then take off your clothes, Ronthil. I want to see you.”

She finally stopped teasing that pointed ear, and Ronthil groaned, his cheeks dark with color as he began getting unsteadily to his feet. If the mer’s hands had been uncertain undressing her, they were even more so when it came to taking his loose robes off to show her his body. The insecurity was endearing, and the Dragonborn patted his thigh to show her approval as slowly the Bosmer male dropped his coverings. 

Dear Ronthil was quite hard indeed. A pretty cock, slender and fine like the Bosmer himself rose eagerly from between the nervous elf’s quivering legs. His lively hands moved to try and cover his arousal again, but the lady firmly knocked the fidgeting limbs away. She wanted to see him, and purred as he took in the swollen cock, watching a tender rivulet of moisture slipping down from the twitching tip. 

Those glowing eyes looked on her both fearful and expectant as the Dragonborn eased the Bosmer astride her lap again. From his angle he was just slight enough that she looked down onto the features of his fine face, and the nervousness in that lovely gaze made her smile. 

She rubbed the male elf’s thigh a bit as she let him ache and settle. He was twitching underneath her hands, like a nervous mare on her first mount. He didn’t seem to know if she would be cruel or kind, and seemed stuck trembling as her gentle hands rubbed up and down his sweat slick body. She took in his reactions as her hand roamed up his uneasy flanks, felt him hiss when her skilled fingers perused a stiff male nipple. She pinched the small brown bud when he moaned, licked her fingers and rubbed it until she felt his breath go short. 

Only then did she shift her attention elsewhere, this time returning to the pointed ear that had so aroused him earlier. Her inquisitive fingers traced over the edge, making the excited mer jolt, and the reaction readily pleased the Lady. If he reacted so sweetly to fingers, she had to see how he responded to the wet caress of a tongue. His moan was ragged, as if torn from deepest torment when she licked there. She could feel the tension in him, as half of his body seemed to want to run away from the intensity of sensation. Oh, but it took such a good boy to stay there, to offer his sensitive parts even when it was almost too much to bear. 

It was then that the lady finally wrapped her hand around his swollen shaft, and Ronthil actually sobbed in his desire. Her hand was wet, strong and assertive as it started to milk the aching length between his legs.

______

His lady was so kind. So generous to give him pleasure. Vingalmo had never deigned to touch him like this. Ronthil would find always have to find his own satisfaction afterwards, and it was so hard when he didn’t have any place to himself. But she was nice, touched him, even if it was almost too much to take. His breath was hot, and trembling and her mouth playing with his sensitive ear seemed to have nearly a direct line of access to his cock. 

He was just so grateful, and couldn’t stop his moans of praise or whispered entreaties as that tight, wet hand worked up and down upon his cock. Oh that sweet woman, she made it slick, made it good. No one had ever been so nice to him, and her subtle kisses…

They broke his heart. He came, crying out into her gentle shoulder, holding his precious lady tight. The Bosmer was out of breath as he slowly came down from that high, still trembling with aftershocks as he pressed close. 

“Drink from me.”

Ronthil started, pulling back and looking confused as he stared at the more powerful vampire. The woman who had enjoyed him, and even pleasured him in return. “I…I couldn’t…”

“I fed recently, it will not harm me. You’re mine now, Ronthil, and once you feed from me everyone will know it. Don’t you want to be mine?”

She didn’t have to ask. “More than anything.”

“Then do it.”

Ronthil didn’t question her again. He simply sank his teeth in and closed his eyes as he drank deeply. Power and warmth flooded his mouth, his heart, his body and finally his soul. The Bosmer couldn’t remember feeling so good and so safe since becoming a vampire. And he knew immediately that he would do anything for this woman. He wanted her comfort, her protection so much… wanted this woman. His Dragonborn.

~Fin~


End file.
